


Risen: The Phantom of Vostok

by BattleScarredRaven



Series: Risen [1]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Amputation, Angst, Euthanasia, F/F, F/M, Gen, Graphic Depictions of Docking, Literally so much angst, Multi, Nightmares, Prophetic Visions, References to PTSD, The Whirlwind
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:42:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28051863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BattleScarredRaven/pseuds/BattleScarredRaven
Summary: In it's dying breath, the Traveler made the Ghosts in order to find those worthy to do what it itself now could not: act as a Guardian for humanity.In days long past, however, the mighty Great Machine bestowed its power in other ways to its children in order to protect them from the Dark.Before there were Guardians and Ghosts, there were those who were Given the Gift, and this is the story of one of them.
Relationships: Athrys & Orginal Fallen | Eliksni Character(s), Athrys & Variks, Athrys/Eramis, Eramis & Original Fallen | Eliksni Character(s), Eramis & Variks, Female Guardian & Original Fallen | Eliksni Character(s), Mithrax/Original Fallen | Eliksni Character(s), Original Fallen | Eliksni Character(s) & Variks, Original Fallen | Eliksni Character(s)/Original Fallen | Eliksni Character(s)
Series: Risen [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2054832
Kudos: 12





	1. The Gift

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, I'm finally writing Siraax's origin story! And boy, it's an angsty one!
> 
> This is such a challenging story for me to write, mainly for finding Eliksni words for things and nailing down certain characters' speech patterns (including the Traveler of all the things!). So, to make things easier for you, my readers, I will preface by saying this:
> 
> Anything in ||this|| is the Traveler speaking.
> 
> Any Eliksni words I use will be defined in notes at the end of each chapter, in the order they appear in that chapter. For any further clarifications, please message me!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

**_"_** **_They say there is lost soul out there, hidden in the snow. A monster from a far away place, more powerful than any Risen yet alive."_ **

**_"She's no monster. And though strong, she has no power. Not anymore."_ **

\- An Unknown Refugee and Dallas-13.

* * *

 _||For countless_ **_aeons_ ** _, I have wandered through the_ **_void_ ** _.||_

 _||I have cupped many gleaming_ **_orbs_ ** _in my_ **_hands_ ** _. Tried to shape them into the_ **_Garden of Paradise_ ** _I know they can all be.||_

 _||But the_ **_Winnower_ ** _hampers these efforts. My ceaseless labours, all wasted in_ **_vain_ ** _.||_

 _||I thought the_ **_Worms_ ** _would help my_ **_Gardens_ ** _grow.||_

 _||But the_ **_Winnower_ ** _turns even these against me. Turns the_ **_Worms_ ** _to_ **_Aphids_ ** _that wilt the_ **_Roses_ ** _and leave them as nought but_ **_Thorns_ ** _.||_

 _||I had no answer until a_ **_star_ ** _called out to me. A single,_ **_solitary note_ ** _, louder and brighter than the_ **_symphony_ ** _around it.||_

 _||Nestled in that note, an equally_ **_bright orb_ ** _, glowing softly in_ **_purple hues_ ** _like one manifestation of my_ **_Gift_ ** _.||_

 _||The terrible, razor sharp_ **_deep-dark_ ** _still lingers on my mind. But_ **_Her whispers_ ** _are gone.||_

 _||Perhaps I have_ **_travelled_ ** _far enough. Perhaps I have finally found a place yet_ **_untouched_ ** _by the_ **_Winnower’s_ ** _malice.||_

 _||I will linger here. I will make those of this_ **_Voidly orb_ ** _my_ **_children_ ** _.||_

 _||They will be the_ **_Ladybirds_ ** _to the_ **_Winnower’s Aphids_ ** _.||_

 _||_ **_You_ ** _will be one of them. Not the_ **_first_ ** _, but one of_ **_many_ ** _.||_

 _||Rise to my_ **_Light_ ** _, my child. Take my_ **_Gift_ ** _, and shape your_ **_children_ ** _as I have shaped_ **_worlds_ ** _.||_

 _||Rise now, my_ **_Gentle Weaver_ ** _. Rise now, and be forever_ **_Risen_ ** _.||_

* * *

_On a far off, almost forgotten planet, an Eliksni doctor scrambled around her medical tent, working hard to save who she could while ensuring those who could be evacuated were able to. It was the middle of what her people would later come to know as the Edge Wars. Right now, in this moment, she didn’t much care for names. She cared only for saving lives, and the orbital bombardment from the massive fleet of Skiffs and Ketches above her that was steadily getting closer to her camp._

_“Nitkys!” One of her assistants called for her, a young runt of a vandal barely out of his adult moult, if his stunted secondary arms were any indication. “We should leave now, before it is too late.”_

_If all four of her hands weren’t so preoccupied, Nitkys might have back-handed the vandal with one of them for such a suggestion. Instead, all four of her glowing, ice blue eyes narrowed at her companion, her teeth bared behind her ether-mask even though the fool could not see it._

_“Not leaving them here, Taviks.” She growled at him angrily. “Not an option. If we do, they all die. Lost too many already. If you won’t help, then you are free to leave. See how long you survive out there by yourself.” She jabbed a primary arm towards the raging battlefield outside, before gesturing for the bandages in her assistant’s hands._

_Taviks diligently obliged her, handing over the roll of fabric. “We will all die anyway if we don’t leave. It doesn’t matter how many we save now.”_

_Nitkys didn’t stop working on patching up the wounded warrior before her. “Still time. Will save all I can before then.”_

_The vandal deflated visibly at this. His eyes scanned his mentor, as if searching for something, before he clicked quietly, “That’s not what Ciraasks said. Before she passed to the ether.”_

_Nitkys’ movements stopped abruptly. It was rare for her speech to become fluent, but in that moment of seriousness, it did so. “What did you say?”_

_“I said that’s not what Ciraasks said to me. She told me-”_

_Nitkys’ secondary arms seized Taviks tightly by his upper shoulders suddenly._

_“I heard that. What did you say about her passing to the ether? When did this happen?”_

_“... Ten units ago.” Taviks cast his eyes down, unable to look at his mentor. It was no secret that Ciraasks was the best warrior defending the Mraskilaasan medical camp, and that Nitkys had been close to her. “I… I was trying to get your attention, but there were so many other patients. I tried to do the best for her-”_

_He let out a yelp when Nitkys’ claws started digging painfully into his exoskeleton. “What did she tell you?”_

_“She told me to tell you that… that the enemy is closer than you think. And that you need to run. Now.”_

_Nitkys’ arms lowered slowly as she finally released Taviks. One of her outer eyes lingered on the patient she was tending to, a Mraskilaasan warrior with wounds that even a lowly drekh could tell were mortal, even if Nitkys was trying to deny it. Her other three eyes fixated on her expectant assistant before her._

_“Nitkys, please. If we die here, many more of our great House will be lost in the long run.” Taviks pleaded with her, willing her to do the right thing. “You are our best hope for keeping us in the fight. Don’t make Ciraasks’ sacrifice be in vain.”_

_That did it. She pulled away from the patient she had been tending to, shaking her head. “Nama, Ciraasks was our best chance of surviving. But you’re right. Won’t let her sacrifice be in vain.”_

_Taviks watched as she strode to the middle of the room, all four arms open wide as she issued a whistling chitter that got everyone’s attention._

_“Everyone! Change of plans! Those who can walk or can be safely moved out, we take with us back to Riis. Everyone else…” Nitkys trailed off. Her crew got the idea. “Mraskilaasan must survive. Won’t if we die here on this forsaken orb.”_

_“What about the dead?” One of her other assistants protested. “They deserve a respectful burial!”_

_Nitkys gritted her teeth. “Ketch provide burial soon enough.” She hated herself for saying it, but it was all too true. “Give us same burial if we don’t move.”_

_That threat sent her crew scrabbling into action as they worked on getting the last of those who could be moved safely onto the last of the Skiffs set aside for evacuations. Before long, it was just Nitkys and Taviks left, alongside all the dead and dying Eliksni too unstable to move. The vandal was going around, gently easing the passing of the latter group with lethal doses of drugs or swift, precise cuts of his knife. His mentor was lingering over the body of Ciraasks._

_“Sorry, Cir. Won’t be going to great ether together, as promised.”_

_She tenderly crossed all four of Ciraasks’ arms over her chest. In lieu of a proper burial, it was about the most respectful thing she could do for her._

_“I’ve eased the rest to the ether as gently as I could.” Taviks reported to her, his face grim behind his own ether-mask as he approached. “I... I’m sorry, Nitkys. I wish there was another way.”_

_“I know, Tav.”_

_Taviks blinked his four eyes slowly at her, first his inner pair, then his outer. Nitkys never called him that, unless she was about to do something he would disapprove of._

_“Whatever you are planning…” He started, but was silenced by a wave of one of her hands._

_“Get the last of wounded onto Skiff. I will be there.”_

_Taviks opened his mouth to protest, but the look Nitkys gave him shut him right up._

_That, and the sudden whirl of white and ice blue armour that appeared in the tent as a marauder assassin from their enemy came out of nowhere, poised to kill._

_“Taviks!” Nitkys warned him, but the small vandal and his little knife were no match for the other Eliksni’s strength as he was brutally impaled as tossed aside as though he was little more than a light sack of psakiks._

_Her eyes widened in horror, but it was short lived as the marauder came for her next. A large blade swiped at her, electricity crackling in the air. She scrambled out of range on all six limbs, narrowly avoiding a similar fate to Taviks. To her despair, Nitkys found herself all too quickly cornered. Ciraasks had always told her to watch her back. How disappointed she would be in her._

_Thank the Great Machine then, she wasn’t alive to see the doctor in her final moments._

_“Well? What are you waiting for,_ **_shes_** _?” She growled at her attacker, defiant until the end. Were she not wearing her ether-mask, she would have spat at them. “Finish me!”_

_The marauder raised one of their blades. Nitkys raised her chin, staring down her would be murderer. She would face her end bravely._

_“Mraskilaasan-den.” She growled her last words as the blade came down…_

_… And promptly disintegrated into sparks, ash, then nothingness, alongside its owner._

_Nitkys could only blink all four eyes independently in shock as she processed what had just happened, before being forced to shield them against the bright glow of a staff of pure Arc energy being held in her saviour’s hands before her. She squinted at the figure, struggling to take them in for a moment, before recognising them for who they were._

_But that was impossible. Taviks had said…-_

_“Are you alright?” The other Eliksni asked her with a soft click of her mandibles, dispelling her crackling staff. “You’re not hurt?_

_Nitkys couldn’t believe it. She’d heard stories of the Great Machine offering its blessings to certain individuals, granting them life once more and the power to wield the Gifts, but she had dismissed such things as nothing more than tall, campfire stories. Now, with Ciraasks standing before her once again, very much alive and wielding the Arc Gift, she had to wonder if the stories really were true after all._

_“You’re alive.” Was all she could answer with at that moment._

_“Eia. Of course I am.” The other Eliksni chittered in confusion at the doctor. “Why would I not be?”_

_Nitkys’ face fell. It was clear that Ciraasks no longer recognised her. Was this something common to all those given the Gift?_

_“Ciraasks…” She tried gently. “You… you were dead. Don’t you… don’t you remember me?”_

_The Eliksni that had been Ciraasks only tilted her head in confusion. “I’ve only just met you. And who is this… Ciraasks?”_

_Before Niktys could explain any further, both Eliksni felt the ground start to shake. The fleet was here, and they had already started to bombard the place._

_“We need to go!” She told the once-Ciraasks, pushing herself to her feet and grabbing the other by one of her arms. “Else Ketches and Skiffs will destroy us. There’s a ship waiting…-”_

_“No time!” The other Eliksni told her, pulling her close and hugging her to her body with her secondary arms. Her primaries, she flung out either side of her, and a dome of purple Light surrounded them._

_“Cir!” Niktys called out, only to be drowned by the bombardment of weaponry that crashed into their shield and reduced everything else around them to rubble and ash. She shut her eyes in the face of the blinding explosions and, for the first time in her life, prayed to the Great Machine to save them._

_The last thing Niktys remembered was hearing a primal shout, followed by ringing static and a feeling of coldness._

_Then, darkness._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossary:
> 
> -Winnower - The Darkness.  
>  -Worms - proto-Hive.  
>  -Aphids - The Hive.  
>  -(The) Gift - The Light.  
>  \- Deep-Dark - Pyramid Ships.  
>  -Voidly orb - Riis (Eliksni homeworld).  
>  -Ladybirds - Eliksni.  
>  -Risen - Another name for a Lightbearer.  
>  -Eliksni - Fallen's name for themselves, and their language.  
>  -Edge Wars - Name for one of the Eliksni's civil wars.  
>  -Skiff - a smallish troop carrier ship that the Eliksni use.  
>  -Ketch - A much larger ship the Eliksni use. The biggest of them act as the flagships for Eliksni fleets.  
>  -Ciraasks - Siraax's true name in Eliksni; Siraax is human mispronunciation.  
>  -Ten units - ten minutes.  
>  -Mraskilaasan - Gentle Weavers. Original name of the House of Wolves.  
>  -Drekh - Dreg.  
>  -Nama - No, a simple denial.  
>  -Psakiks - Vegetable similar to a potato.  
>  -Great Machine - Eliksni name for the Traveler.  
>  -Shes - To be afraid, a coward  
>  -Mraskilaasan-den - The House of Gentle Weavers shall live forever (literally, Gentle Weavers forever.)  
>  -Eia - Yes, a simple affirmation.


	2. The Given

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Given Eliksni struggles to make sense of the cruel world she's been abruptly thrust into.

_ “ _ **_She's but a pale shadow of her past now; a ghost of her former self. A spirit that haunts the wilds, a shade everyone knows is there, but few have actually seen. The Phantom of Vostok, people call her."_ **

**_"I thought she was just a tale. A myth, nothing more. Yet you speak as if you know her."_ **

\- Dallas-13 and an Unknown Refugee.

* * *

_ ||For a time, I lifted the  _ **_Ladybirds_ ** _ from their squalor. Took them away from the  _ **_Deep_ ** _ and raised them towards the  _ **_Sky_ ** _.|| _

_ ||I watched as  _ **_larvae_ ** _ became  _ **_adults_ ** _ and took to the wing, filled with the  _ **_song_ ** _ of my  _ **_Gift_ ** _.|| _

_ ||But it was not enough. With great  _ **_power_ ** _ comes  _ **_responsibility_ ** _. Something none of my  _ **_children_ ** _ wished to have.|| _

_ ||My  _ **_Gift_ ** _ made life too easy. My  _ **_children_ ** _ found new challenges. In  _ **_each other._ ** _ || _

_ ||I should  _ **_run_ ** _. Run, run, run. But I have invested too much now to simply leave this  _ **_Garden_ ** _ to run  _ **_wild_ ** _.|| _

_ ||I will  _ **_Give_ ** _ more of myself.  _ **_Give_ ** _ more unto  _ **_you_ ** _.|| _

_ || _ **_Rise_ ** _ again, my child. For I made you for so much  _ **_more_ ** _.|| _

* * *

_ In a charred out crater surrounded by debris, death and destruction, an Eliksni took a wheezy breath back into consciousness through a broken rebreather. _

_ Her ears were ringing with static. When she opened her eyes, they all stung with the same dust that threatened to choke her lungs. She stretched out all six of her limbs, testing them out one by one. Everything seemed intact, but she still could not move, pinned by a weight on her chest. Her eyes gazed downwards. _

_ The keening cry escaped her mouth before she could think to stop it. The one she had tried to save before lay on top of her, badly wounded and missing a primary arm from below the elbow. She did not know her name, or if she did, she couldn’t remember it. Deep inside her, though, she had a feeling that the other Eliksni was important. _

_ “Vel, vel!” She called out to the other, gently sitting up and trying to shake her awake once she confirmed the Eliksni in her arms was still breathing. She hated not knowing the other’s name. “Stay with me. I…” _

_ She paused, suddenly realising she didn’t know her own name, either. After a moment of consideration, she shook her head. It didn’t matter. Not now. _

_ “I  _ **_will_ ** _ get you out of here. Honour-promise.” _

_ She pushed herself to her feet, wrapped her charge around her back, and started walking. _

* * *

_ It was days before she found any semblance of civilisation. A na-ra camp, though she didn’t know it at the time, for she knew nothing of the world which she had been born into save it was full of death. In later life, she would be thankful for this stroke of luck. Right now though, she had more immediate problems, and that was getting the only soul she could trust healed. Not just because it was the right thing to do, but because she was the only one with the answers to the many questions she had. _

_ “Please.” She begged the first refugee she found wandering the camp, an old, beaten up vandal who looked like he was tired of war. “My friend needs help.” _

_ His eyes, and that of many others, regarded her warily. “You wear colours of Mraskilaasan-bo. You bring trouble here.” _

_ “Nama.” She shook her head at the vandal. “From my first breath, I have seen nothing but death. I tried to help because it is right, but my powers were not enough. I know nothing of this world, this war. Just that I was dead and that my friend is important.” _

_ The vandal’s eyes widened with a look of shock that wasn’t too dissimilar to the one the Eliksni currently unconscious on her back had given her when she had first rescued her from the assassin. _

_ “... Zer?” The vandal dared to breathe after a moment. _

**_Given_ ** _. She blinked at him; the word felt confusingly familiar, yet she couldn’t work out why. Despite that, it seemed to fit all the same. So she nodded, slowly. _

_ “Eia.” She chirped after a moment. “I think.” _

_ The whole of the vandal’s face seemed to light up then, his tiredness disappearing all at once. “I don’t… The legends are true, after all. And the Great Machine has answered our prayers.” _

_ Before she could protest at him, the vandal pointed both of his left arms towards two other refugees and barks for them to help. They complied without question, and the Given Eliksni and her unconscious friend were immediately rushed into one of the many tents dotted around the camp. _

* * *

_ “Zer!” _

_ It was not her name, more of a title, but the Given looked up from the datapad she’d been pouring over for the last thirty units like it was her name that had been called. A short distance away, outside one of the many tents in the camp, the old vandal she now knew to be called Yviks was waving at her with all four of his arms. _

_ “What is it?” She chittered back, placing the datapad down on the box she herself was perched on, forgotten. _

_ “Your friend is awake!” Yviks told her, before his voice turned solemn. “But in a bad way.” _

_ The Given was on her feet then, crossing over to him and the tent in a few strides. Yviks held the tent flap open for her as she ducked in, only to be greeted by her friend surrounded by rudimentary medical equipment, looking at her with four, half closed eyes. _

_ She clicked her mandibles happily. “I told you we would make it.” _

_ “Nama.” Her friend shook her head. “The call of the great ether is strong…” _

_ The Given collapsed on her knees next to her, clasping the other’s hands instinctively, though she didn’t know why. “Don’t speak like that! We will leave this world, find a peaceful place. You can tell me who I was. Tell me who you are.” _

_ But the injured Eliksni shook her head once again. “Won’t agree to a promise I know I can’t keep. But will tell story. I am Nitkys. You, Ciraasks. You tried to help me but went to the great ether. Then the Great Machine brought you back. Gave you the Gift. I thought to save me. But… I think you are meant to save Mrakilaasan. Save all Eliksni…” _

_ “I can save you!” The Given’s eyes stung with ether-rich tears. “You are part of all Eiksni. Won’t be saving all if I can’t save you.” _

_ Nitkys’ hands gripped hers tighter. _

_ “Nama. No hope for me. But you can save all Eliksni.” She urged, her voice rasping as breathing became more difficult. “Go to Judgment. They will know what to do. Please Cir. Promise me.” _

_ She didn’t want to leave Nitkys, but an overwhelming emotion forced her to say the words. “Honour-promise, Nitkys.”  _

_ The injured Eliksni’s eyes shut, her face content. “I love you, Cir. I always will, even if you don’t remember.” _

_ A final, shuddered breath left her. The Given let out a rueful wail that rang throughout the camp. _

_ She would not forget Nitkys. She would not forget the promise she had made to her. And she would not forget the name she had been given.  _

_ She would, and would always be, Ciraasks once more. _

_ Ciraasks the Given. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossary:
> 
> \- Ladybirds - Eliksni/Fallen  
> \- The Deep - Darkness/Darkness philosophy  
> \- The Sky - Light/Light philosophy  
> \- (The) Gift - The Light  
> \- Eliksni - Fallen's name for themselves, and their language  
> \- Vel - Hey, casual greeting  
> \- Na-ra - Houseless (literally, 'without House'). An Eliksni who follows no House.  
> \- Mraskilaasan-bo - Banner of the Gentle Weavers/Gentle Weaver banner.  
> \- Nama - No, a simple denial  
> \- Zer - Given, a term for a Lightbearer  
> \- Eia - Yes, a simple affirmation  
> \- Great Machine - Eliksni name for the Traveler  
> \- Great ether - Eliksni afterlife  
> \- Ciraasks - Siraax's name in Eliksni. Siraax is the result of human mispronunciation.


	3. Judgment-Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciraasks seeks out the House of Kings and the House of Judgment, and ends up learning more truths than she had bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha how to write dialogue for a character who only speaks in one piece of lore and whose speech style is rendered in Old English lol.
> 
> Also, apologies for the delay. Other writing and Dawning delayed me doing a final edit of this.

**_“_ ** **_All tales have grains of truth to them, my friend. No matter how tall. And the Phantom of Vostok? She's real, and she's out there."_ **

**_"You've seen her?"_ **

**_"In a manner of speaking."_ **

_ \- Dallas-13 and An Unknown Refugee. _

* * *

_ ||This  _ **_sour drum-note_ ** _ of  _ **_war_ ** _ has gone on  _ **_long enough_ ** _.|| _

_ || _ **_Gentle Weaver, Hunter-born_ ** _ , though your feet be weary, let them whisk you away to the  _ **_Garden_ ** _ I have prepared for you.|| _

_ ||Let your  _ **_voice_ ** _ sing  _ **_true_ ** _ with my  _ **_Gift_ ** _. Let it  _ **_ring_ ** _ in the  _ **_hearts_ ** _ and  _ **_ears_ ** _ of the  _ **_Rulers_ ** _ and the  _ **_Lawmakers_ ** _.|| _

_ ||Tell them of this one simple  _ **_truth_ ** _ , the one basic  _ **_tenet_ ** _ I would  _ **_revise_ ** _ for all my  _ **_children_ ** _ :|| _

_ ||”The  _ **_Garden_ ** _ is a place for  _ **_all_ ** _ , for the  _ **_Gardener_ ** _ wills it so.”|| _

_||”For this is_ ** _Her_** **_worship_** _. And for those without_ ** _sharp-blades_** _of_ ** _malice_** _in their hearts,_ ** _She welcomes._** _”||_

_ ||”But for those  _ **_unable to change_ ** _ , for those unable to live under the  _ **_peaceful Sky_ ** _ of  _ **_Her making_ ** _ , only  _ **_Death_ ** _ as  _ **_Dark_ ** _ as  _ **_deepest-Deep_ ** _ awaits.”|| _

_ ||What I say is not a  _ **_threat_ ** _. It is not a  _ **_promise_ ** _. It is  _ **_truth_ ** _.|| _

_ ||A  _ **_truth_ ** _ that I will  _ **_protect_ ** _ my  _ **_children_ ** _ from. That  _ **_you_ ** _ will protect them from.|| _

_||Go now,_ ** _child of mine_** _. I eagerly await the_ ** _beautiful_** **_notes_** _of the_ ** _sweet melody_** _of your_ ** _success_** _with_ ** _bated breath_** _.||_

_ ||For _ **_once more_ ** _ shall I  _ **_weep_ ** _ if met with the  _ **_shrieking cacophony_ ** _ of  _ **_failure_ ** _.|| _

_||... No._ ** _No more_** _._ ** _You_** _and_ ** _I_** _, your_ ** _brothers_** _and_ ** _sisters_** _. We_ ** _will_** **_shape worlds together_** _as they were_ ** _meant to be shaped_** _.||_

_ ||Our choir’s  _ **_harmonious chords_ ** _ will  _ **_ring out_ ** _ for  _ **_timeless-time_ ** _ across the  _ **_Universe_ ** _. Every world will be a  _ **_Garden_ ** _ in  _ **_full bloom_ ** _ , all  _ **_resonating_ ** _ our  _ **_same great Anthem_ ** _.|| _

_ ||Together, we will  _ **_drown out_ ** _ the  _ **_whispers_ ** _ of the  _ **_Anatheme_ ** _. The  _ **_Ladybirds_ ** _ of the  _ **_Gardener_ ** _ will  _ **_cull_ ** _ the  _ **_Aphids_ ** _ of the  _ **_Winnower_ ** _.|| _

_ ||My  _ **_child_ ** _. See it so. For  _ **_we_ ** _ have  _ **_much work_ ** _ yet to  _ **_do_ ** _.|| _

* * *

_ On the way to Riis, Ciraasks has a dream. _

_ Or, she thinks she does. It was more like a series of vague images heavily laden with metaphor than anything. It was not unpleasant like a nightmare might have been, but it left her head aching all the same. _

_ “The Great Machine communes with you.” Yviks’ sympathetic chittering drifted across the tight communal quarters of the Skiff they were in. “I’ve seen that face before.” _

_ Ciraasks stared at the vandal, her inner eyes narrowing. She was still trying to work out why Yviks had come with her at all. It was not as if he owed her anything, and from the stories he had been telling her on and off to pass the time on their journey, he didn’t care much for the House she had supposedly once been a part of, either. _

_ “What do you know of it?” She humoured him, just this once. If her dreams wouldn’t let her sleep and Yviks wouldn’t let her sleep, then she figured she might as well use the time to learn more about the world she had been thrust so abruptly into. “You make it sound like I am not the first you’ve met with the Gift.” _

_ “Nama.” He confirmed, taking in a heavy draught of ether through his mask. “You’re the first I’ve met since the war began. But I met a couple of others. One who could disintegrate enemies with power the colour of Riis sky. And another who wielded a Shrapnel Launcher made of nothing but fire. They, too, dreamed of the Great Machine.” _

_ Ciraasks leaned forward, curious. “Did it say anything to them?” _

_ “Not that I know of. If it did, they did not tell good friend Yviks.” _

_ Now her outer eyes narrowed at the vandal, too. She was almost certain he was hiding something, or at least omitting some information from her. “Why did you join me, Yviks? This is not your fight. Not your path. What aren’t you telling me?” _

_ Before the vandal could answer, the Skiff tilted dangerously off centre, startling the rest of the small crew that had volunteered to come with them into wakefulness. Everyone struggled to anchor themselves to something as the Skiff’s pilot wrestled to right the ship again. _

_ “Report!” Yviks barked the demand. _

_ “Just entered Riis atmosphere. Lots of air traffic. Fighting between House fleets.” The pilot relayed back. “Be safer if we turn back now.” _

_ “Nama!” Ciraasks growled before Yviks could answer. “We’ve come too far to go back. Must find Judgment and Kings. The Great Machine wills it!” _

_ “You’re crazy!” The pilot protested. “Kings will never let na-ra Skiff anywhere near them. And Judgment work with Kings, so probably react the same way-!” _

_ “Know your place, whelp!” Yviks hissed angrily at the pilot. Ciraasks suspected he might have knocked some sense into him too, were he not needed to fly the Skiff. “You speak to a mighty zer of legend! If Ciraasks needs to go to Judgment and Kings and the Great Machine wills it so, then that is where we will go! But…” His features softened. “You do have point about Kings hating the na-ra. What do you propose we do about that, Zer?” _

_ Underneath her rebreather mask, Ciraasks’ teeth were bared with sly cunning. “Tell them you offer a gift: a once-mighty warrior of the Mraskilaasan, captured by your very hand. And that you seek an audience with them to make a deal.” _

_ Yviks couldn’t help but rub his four hands together with glee at this idea. “For one who knows so little of this world, I like the way you think.” _

* * *

_ They would get their audience with the Kings and Judgment, albeit under armed escort the whole way to their main council chamber. It was a long walk, and Ciraasks’ wrists ached as they strained against the restraints she had voluntarily allowed Yviks to bind her with in order to make their deception more convincing. Though she had been the one to suggest the plan, part of her still worried that the King guards might suspect something. But if they did, they were paying it no mind. One even dared to jab her with the point of his Shock Blade. She hissed at them, and Yviks seized the offender’s blade with one of his secondary arms. _

_ “Damage my property again, wretch, and you can personally tell your kel all deals are off.” The vandal clicked in agitation. “I’m sure the kels of other Houses would pay just as pretty a price for her.” _

_ To both his and Ciraasks’ surprise, the guard laughed. “Mind your tone, whelp. You’re in Kings’ territory now. You don’t make demands of us here, for we are the strongest of all Houses and our word is law.” _

_ Yviks was undeterred. “Could have gone anywhere with this one. Still could. Perhaps, return her to the Mraskilaasan, and see how long your precious House stands then!” _

_ The guard growled, but the captain leading them all raised one of his mighty swords. “Quiet back there! These are guests of our kel, and they will be treated as such! Any runt that thinks about going against this, I will personally dock all your limbs one by one before Craaskkel himself!” _

_ The guards, including the one Yviks had been arguing with, all chittered fearfully and fell silent. To Ciraasks, it seemed that, whoever this Craask was, they had a fearsome reputation. Part of her wanted to ask Yviks about it, but the Given warrior knew that would give their game away. So she stayed silent, playing her part as a humiliated prisoner. _

_ Finally, the corridors they had been wandering through opened up to a grand chamber, and their escort fanned out, surrounding her and Yviks. Before them lay a throne, where a massive, gold garbed Eliksni sat, four glowing eyes trained on them. Off to his right side, a smaller Eliksni garbed in jade green paused his scribe-work to look up at the group, then to the Kingkel briefly, expectant. The air in the room was thick with tension suddenly. _

_ “Craaskkel!” The Captain dropped to one knee in a deep bow as he addressed his kel, his retinue quickly following suit. “I brought the na-ra that dared to encroach on our sacred lands. It demands an audience with you.” _

_ “Doth it now?” The Kingkel - Craask himself, Ciraasks presumed - leaned forwards slightly in his throne, amused. “Doth it know that one doth not simply make demands of the Kings? Surely, it must hath brought mighty Craask something of value if it darest to make a move so bold.” _

_ “It claims to have brought a gift, Craaskkel.” The Captain continued his report, voice respectful. “A warrior of the lowly Mraskilaasan!” _

_ All four of Craask’s hands clenched briefly against the arms of his throne as he pushed himself to his feet, rising to full height. He towered above his subordinate, the scribe at his side and even Ciraasks at full height at least twicefold. He stomped down the steps of his throne, approaching the group slow and deliberate as if he were stalking prey. _

_ “ _ **_Mraskilaasan_ ** _.” The Kingkel sneered derisively, spitting the name into his ether-mask. “Naught but na-sloat pretending to be lovos. They are worse than na-ra. If Winter doth not burn them, I certainly will.” His piercing gaze turned to Yviks. “And, speaking of na-ra… what sayeth thou, whelp? Doth thou truly bringeth Craask a gift? Enough, perhaps, to warrant a demand of he who yields not to demands?” _

_ Yviks dipped his head at Craask and averted his gaze - out of formality, Ciraasks quickly realised, than any sort of respect for the kel. “Mighty Craaskkel. Though young, you possess your forefathers’ ferocity, and thus your reputation precedes you. Only the foolish would come to your sacred lands and attempt to parlay with you without something of substantial value to offer, and I am no fool.” _

_ The vandal clapped Ciraasks hard on the back, forcing her to kneel. It was part of the act, but the blow still came as enough of a surprise that the Given Eliksni had no choice but to comply. She dipped her head for further emphasis; humiliating, but she needed it to be believable. _

_ “I offer you the mighty Mraskilaasan warrior, Ciraasks, to do with as you see fit.” Yviks gestured to her with both left arms. “In return, I ask that my crew and I be granted safe refuge in your lands.”  _

_ The kel of Kings stiffened at once. The guards all gripped their weapons tighter. Even the scribe, still stood near Craask’s throne, recoiled in fear. _

_ “Ciraasks…?” The Kingkel breathed after a moment. “Thou hast brought the Slayer of Winter’s Finest, the Humbler of Kings’ Spies, the Shatterer of Stone Warriors and Cause of Scars’ Scars to great Craask? Truly?” _

_ “Eia, Craaskkel.” Yviks nodded. “I could have gone to any other House, but you, I thought, would be pleased most of all by my gift.” _

_ Ciraasks’ eyes narrowed in anger, feeling almost betrayed. Yviks had known more about her and her past than he’d let on all this time, and was only now deciding to reveal this?! No wonder why, she realised belatedly, he had been eager to agree to her idea. This had been his plan all along! _

**_Bastard!_ **

_ Before she could simmer too long in scandal, however, one of Craask’s hands gripped her helmeted face roughly, tilting her head up to force her to look at him. She struggled momentarily against her bindings, wanting to get away and strangle Yviks in one move, but to no avail. _

_ “I thought thou seemed familiar when my warriors dragged thou into my court.” Craask was so close, she could smell the ether coming off him, even through her own mask. “We fought once, before I took over the kelship from my father. So many years ago, at the start of this wretched war, but I remember it like it was yesterday. Doth thou remember, Ciraasks? Doth thou remember the clashing of our blades, the singing of our steel? The only warrior to ever hath defeated mighty Craask! How I resented you! How I howled your name to the moons in anguish!” _

_ Ciraasks fixed him with a blank stare. She did not remember. Before this day, she had not met a kel, let alone Craask. Yet… they had supposedly fought before. Trying to dredge up any form of memory only brought back the throbbing headache of her first awakening. _

_ “Thou shalt know pain as I did.” Craask declared at her, before his expression suddenly changed, all four of his cyan eyes blinking slowly as if he had realised something. Releasing Ciraasks and without changing his tone, he turned to Yviks. “Thou hath done good, na-ra. I believe we can cometh to an agreement, yes. But to your demand, Craask hath one of his own to make.” _

_ Yviks raised his head, finally daring to look the kel in the eye. “What would you ask of me, Craaskkel?” _

_ “I would asketh unto thou… how didst thou capture Ciraasks? I find it most curious that such a mighty warrior could be laid low by a mere na-ra such as yourself.” _

_ There was a pause before Yviks answered, and Ciraasks knew why. They hadn’t exactly agreed on a story behind her supposed capture. Not that she cared for that now; in fact, she rather hoped the vandal would slip up and get caught out at this point. It was no more than he deserved, betraying her like this. _

_ “She came into my camp. Alone. I guess she thought she could take us all, but my crew and I were more than ready.” Yviks lied quickly. “When we realised just who she was, we-” _

_ He didn’t get to finish. With a swift movement, Craask backhanded him with one of his primary hands, sending Yviks flying. There was a crack as part of his ether-mask broke away from his face, revealing battle-scars underneath. _

_ “Thou really thought thou would fool me?” Craask growled, cracking his knuckles. “The Ciraasks I know would never hath allowed herself to be taken hostage so easily!” _

_ Yviks spat blood, but somehow managed to chuckle. “That’s because the Ciraasks you know is dead, Craask!” He threw something at her, yelling, “Now!” _

_ Whatever it was, it had cut through Ciraasks’ binds, and she was quick to break free. She beat down their guards, while Yviks struggled with Craask. Before she could motion to help either of them (she wasn’t entirely sure who to trust at this point, to be honest), a spear came from nowhere, pinning her to the wall by her tattered cloak. When she looked up, she was face to face with the scribe that she had long-forgotten about, soon to be remembered by her from this day forward. He had a crude - though well used, by the looks of it - sidearm levelled at her. _

_ “Always were troublemaker, Yviks.” The scribe clicked in disappointment. “Release Craaskkel at once, else you will no longer have bargaining tool, yes?” _

_ Once more, Ciraasks was simmering. Yviks knew this scribe, too?! She glared at the vandal, struggling to keep the kel pinned by his arms in his grasp. _

_ “Kill her all you want, Variks, but she was remade in the image of our people by the Great Machine itself!” Yviks taunted him. “Just like me.” _

_ All at once, the will to fight seeped out of everyone. Even Craask stopped struggling against his captor. _

_ “The Rain Prophecies…” The Kingkel dared to breathe in a hushed whisper. “‘A bo-ra kelekh of the Great Machine shalt bringeth forth the reborn ilaasan kelekh that acts as its mouth.’ Doth… doth it speak to her?” _

_ Yviks was unrelenting, even as Craask relaxed against him. “Ask her yourself.” _

_ But it was the scribe, Variks, who spoke next, his voice gentle. “The Great Machine speaks to Ciraasks, yes?” _

_ As much as she wanted to continue to stare daggers at Yviks, Ciraasks couldn’t help but nod at the scribe before her. “Eia. The Great Machine told me to come here. Told me that Kings and Judgment would understand that our people need to stop this needless strife. That you would bring a new age of peace, and for those unwilling to follow you, only death awaits.” _

_ Craask finally shrugged Yviks off of him, the vandal no longer able to hold onto him any longer. Ciraasks half expected her to kill the two-faced Eliksni, but instead surprised her by approaching her instead, pulling the spear from her robe to hand back to the Judgment scribe who had pinned her with it in the first place. _

_ “Thou art right. The Ciraasks I knew truly is dead. But this Ciraasks…” He paused, considering his words. “Thou shalt tell me all thou know. Speaketh the song of the Great Machine, and let us shape it’s sacred words into action. Let Judgment and Kings bring about it’s grand vision, as was prophesied!” _

_ The room breathed again, and Ciraasks would spend many suns and many moons telling Craask of what she knew. By the time all words were spoken by her and scribed by Variks for posterity, her old bonds would be well and truly shattered, and new ones forged. _

_ Here, under the banner of the Kings, she would be Judgment-made. And her first act under her new House was to make Yviks pay dearly for using her. Her second would be to make up for her earlier deception of Craask and all her previous life had done by helping the Kings and Judgment bring an end to what would later be scribed down in history as the Edge Wars, for they had nearly tipped the Eliksni over the edge. _

_ But not as much, Ciraasks would later learn, as what was coming, and the real reason why Yviks had attempted to betray her. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossary:
> 
> -Garden - World touched/terraformed by the Traveler  
> -(The) Gift - (The) Light.  
> -Gardener - The Traveler/Light.  
> -Sharp-blades of malice - Darkness.  
> -(The) Sky - Philosophy/ways of the Light, or the Light itself.  
> -(The) Deep - Philosophy/ways of the Darkness, or Darkness itself.  
> -Anatheme - The Anthem Anatheme, a paracausal power described as "dominating the objective universe with subjective will" or the desire to change one's reality to suit one's purpose. Often invoked by the phrase "O/Oh _____ mine".  
> -Ladybirds - Eliksni.  
> -Aphids - The Hive.  
> -Winnower - The Pyramid Ships/Darkness.  
> -Riis - Eliksni homeworld.  
> -Ciraasks - Siraax's proper name in Eliksni; Siraax is a result of human mispronunciation.  
> -Great Machine - Eliksni name for the Traveler.  
> -Skiff - Eliksni troop carrier ship.  
> -Nama - No; a simple denial.  
> -Na-ra - Houseless (literally, 'without House').  
> -Zer - Given. Eliksni name for a Lightbearer or 'one who wields the Gift'.  
> -Mrakilaasan - 'Gentle Weavers'. The name of the House of Wolves in Eliksni.  
> -Kel - The leader of an Eliksni House.  
> -Dock(ing) - A ritualistic amputation of one pair of an Eliksni's arms, usually their lower/secondary pair, carried out as punishment for wrong-doing to teach respect through humiliation. The resulting Dregs are not permitted to regrow their lost arms until they prove themselves worthy, such as in battle. Docking is typically used to keep the lowe ranks of a House in line, but there have been instances where Kells have been reduced to Drags this way.  
> \- Eliksni - Fallen's name for themselves and their language.  
> -"Naught but na-sloat pretending to be lovos." - "Nothing but (a) House of Prey pretending to be (a House of) Hunters/Wolves."  
> -Bo-ra - Bannerless (literally, 'without banner').  
> -Kelekh - hatchling, child.  
> -Ilaasan - Weaver.  
> -Eia - Yes; a simple affirmation.  
> -Edge Wars - Name of one of the Eliksni's civil wars.


End file.
